Cochise -- but only my friends know this. The guy working on the bird for me was a real piece of work. I was telling him how many First People believed in the myth of the Thunderbird. That story, some home made moon shine and an hour later, Cochise came out of the conversation. Terry was the urban dictionary's definition of a Cochise, a bad ass muther with a great talent to work on cars. He died a month ago in a fatal car accident. I am still heartbroken. I new guy is taking over for me, but it won't be the same. Terry used to tell people that the original owner of my '67 slept with Ann Margaret in the back seat. He told me this story one day, and I just stared at him. I said, "why in the world would you say that?". His response? No one in their right mind would put this car back on the road, so I had to make up a story of why someone would dump money into this heap. When the bird is ready to fly, the first tune out of the radio will be Ann Margaret's Heartbreak Hotel cover. Peace and love, happy new year to everyone!